


Standing By

by Auty_Ren



Series: Waiting Up [6]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Angry Sex, Creampie, Cum Play, F/M, Groping, Harassment, Kinda, Mando is the galaxy's certified asshole, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Ruined Orgasms, Slight Choking, Submissive Mando, Swearing, Teasing, Unprotected Sex, creepy vibes from a stranger, handjobs, implied injury/violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28755120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auty_Ren/pseuds/Auty_Ren
Summary: Wandering off from Mando didn't seem like a good idea, but with the attitude he's been giving you lately? You're not really concerned about the decision.It's time to give Mando a taste of his own medicine.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: Waiting Up [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834378
Comments: 17
Kudos: 140





	Standing By

**Author's Note:**

> I missed dark!mando so much and I also would like to say I know nothing of mechanics, so please do not kill me lol. Enjoy babes.
> 
> Come say hi on my Tumblr: @auty-ren

“Where are you going?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, biting the inside of your lip to keep from making some smart remark. When you turned he didn’t even move from the wall both of you had been leaning up against. His chest puffed out a little bit, as he crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side as he looked towards you. He sounded so accusatory as if every move you made was an annoyance, a tick he would do anything to get rid of. And even through all that bothersome attitude, he still found time to ask you unnecessary questions.

You could hate him sometimes.

“I have to piss.” You could feel your teeth ache with how hard you ground your jaw, your eyes flickering up to his visor, trying to put on your best smile.

“Want to come, hold my hand?”

Mando had parked the Crest on the edge of the city, somewhere hidden under thick canopies of trees and long out of the vision of any scavengers. Most of the planet was covered in forest; dense, humid forest with trees that sat high above your head with leaves bigger than your face. The air was hot, miserable, and laid thick on your skin leaving it clammy.

The ideal vacation spot.

You were already regretting even stepping foot off the ramp of the Razor Crest when Mando called out for you, saying if you wanted to make good time, the two of you needed to leave as soon as possible. It had taken about half a day of walking, following the obnoxious glint off of Mando’s armor through branches and foliage, and trying to remember why you agreed to do this. Why you agreed to trudge behind a grumpy Mando through miles of mud in the sweltering heat of a foreign planet.

Oh, yeah. Guess it was your job.

Being the lone mechanic to a ship as large as the Crest was difficult enough; given that the Crest pre-dated the Empire was added stress, especially considering most of its core parts were out of commission. Mando was careful, he never put himself or his ship in a situation where either of them ended up needing major help. Made your life a little easier, not having your boss or your ride completely out of commission helped things. For the most part.

You tried everything to prevent it, noticing how hot the engine was getting even after short jumps into hyperspace. In the end, there was nothing you could’ve done to change it, the aluminum bolts in the engine would’ve given out despite your best efforts; Mando got an overheated engine and a cockpit full of smoke before you could even think how to fix it.

Luckily your patch job was enough to get you here, although you’re still not sure exactly where that is. Parts old enough to fix the Crest weren’t going to be easy to find, but Mando didn’t seem too worried about it. He said he knew where you could find what you needed, and honestly, you shouldn’t have been surprised when you figured out you were going underground.

Not physically, though.

The ‘city’ actually sat on top of the ruins of another city, a place left behind by some forgotten civilization and the current home to one of the biggest trade ports in the underworld.

It looked normal, as normal as you imagined anyway. Wildlife had grown to take over the abandoned homes, just as these people had. The same vines and brush that had been your path to its entrance lined the streets, little chittering animals jumped from one roof to the next, looking down at you with one too many eyes that blinked with curiosity.

Definitely didn’t live up to the expectations you had dreamt up on the silent walk to the city’s gates, there weren’t any monsters waiting on the other side of the doors that parted for your entrance, they were just people.

Maybe not the most trustworthy group, but people nonetheless. They walked down the street, into booths and tents set up for business; just routine for their day to day lives, paying you almost no mind as you passed.

A few of them eyed Mando when he came into view, just curious stares, most of them going back to their own lives once the two of you were out of sight. It felt calmer than most of the places you visited, even with career criminals haggling with one another on every corner. It was almost friendly, much friendly even compared to Nevarro.

Mando didn’t seem to share your sentiment though.

He was like your little shadow, attached at your hip and bumping into you every time you turned. With Mando right on your heels, and following your every step, you hardly had room to think let alone breathe. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, and at this point, you couldn't care less. He had interrupted you enough times today to earn the side-eye you had given him. He spoke for you like you were incapable, and ushered you around like you were fragile. 

You’re surprised he didn’t follow you to the ‘fresher and hold your hand like you had taunted him with. Considering that earlier, he didn’t let you step more than an inch away from him. His fingers slipped through the belt loop of your pants; keeping you grounded and directly next to him, like you were a child that needed to be corraled

Why doesn’t he try a leash next time?

You ignored it, for the most part, biting your tongue and deciding to wait till you got back to the razor crest to punch a hole through his beskar cuirass. He didn't say much else to you all day, just clipped sentences and even left you in complete silence when you stopped to eat from one of the vendors.

Just when you thought you had Mando figured out, he took two steps back, leaving you alone to wonder about him in the dark. You didn't understand why he was upset with you, there was no other explanation, you had upset him somehow.

It had to be over the engine overheating, considering your only job was to keep the ship running and despite your best efforts, you had failed at that. You wished he would just say something, yell and scream at you like everyone else you had worked for did. As much as it would break your heart, it would be better than dealing with a huffy Mando.

You needed new aluminum heads, a couple of sets would do fine, but finding them was the tricky part. After a day of scouring through the city, you finally had a lead to somewhere you might be able to find the parts.

The booth you needed to get to was on the edge of the market you found out; surrounded by damp stone walls that were overgrown with sticky vegetation, vines had grown thick and cracked most of the separating walls, leaving it an open space to conduct business. 

You stood at the makeshift entrance, trying your best to seem inconspicuous as Mando scouted the area. Parts of engines and speeders were overflowing in this corner of the city, laid out on worn blankets as people stood over them, haggling prices over what you assumed were stolen goods. In the center of it, a Toydarian with a nasty-looking snout yelled something you couldn’t quite understand, shooing away whoever he was talking to with a huff. From what you could tell, he seemed to be running the place, he was probably exactly who you needed to talk to.

“Stay here.” Mando put his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to stand up against the wall, out of view and around the corner from where everything was. “I’ll go get the part you need.”

“Mando, I don't need you to negotiate for me. I can do this-”

He turned back to look at you, leaning in and pushing you even closer into the wall behind you. 

“Stay. Here.”

He wasn’t asking, and he definitely didn’t see the glare you threw in his direction, convinced you would obey him and stay right where he left you.

Today was just a good day to cause trouble.

You weren’t going to wait around while Mando made negotiations, not after the day you’ve had. Just a moment away from him would hopefully be enough to calm down, so you turned and headed back in the direction you had come. The streets weren’t hard to navigate, you followed the stone brick after brick until you were back in the center of the city; a Bazaar full of life during the mid-day rush. The air was still just as humid inside the city walls, you could feel sweat sticking to your hairline as you looked up into the sky. Fat droplets of warm water hit your face, slow and singular to begin with but eventually began pouring in the open rooftops of the city. You pulled the hood of your poncho up, moving underneath the awnings to escape the weather. Everyone seemed to have the same idea, taking shelter in makeshift tents and hiding from the rain.

One of the few buildings that stood, with all four walls and roof attached, was a cantina back towards the entrance of the city. Like most of the crowd, you wanted refuge in a dry place and ducked your head under weather sheets that served as its door. Every table was filled, people sitting around bowls of thick, grey soup that they ate happily. The air was full of smoke, swirling in the air as patrons puffed on hookah pipes; hot and suffocating but better than getting wet standing out in the rain. There was a lone spot at the edge of the bar that lined the far wall, you made your way over to it and sat down, pushing the hood off your head and not entirely sure what you would do next.

The weather did complicate things, although you were positive you remembered the way back to the Crest. Not to mention you had left Mando behind, your guide through the city, and your ride off this planet, maybe not the best idea in hindsight. You were starting you calm down, groaning as you ran your hand over your face, your fingers cold against your cheek as you held your face in your hands. 

Waiting out the rain was the best option, especially since it had picked up from the short time you had spent in the bar, it beat against the windows and you heard faint cracks of thunder over small talk. You had no idea where Mando was, or if he had even noticed your absence. 

You would wait out the rain, then make your way to the Crest, Mando would probably meet you there. 

Logical reasoning.

You kept to yourself, asking for water when the bartender, a gruff-looking Quarren who leaned over the bar and stayed just a few inches from your face, wanted to know your drink. You ignored the way he scoffed and the annoyed look he gave you when he handed you a cup, straight from the tap.

It’s only until the rain stops…

You have to keep reminding yourself, scratching at the worn, stone, bar top with your nail to ease some of the boredom. Life continues around you, full of laughter and a few angry words tossed here and there. Everyone has somebody, friends, co-workers, -fellow criminals- to keep them company, it’s no wonder you stuck out like a sore thumb; all alone on your own, and throwing your pity party.

And of course, someone had to notice.

He smelt like the motor of a gunked engine, something you had, unfortunately, experience in your lifetime; it was potent and sticky as it flooded your nostrils, like thick sap that coated your tongue and made your eyes water.

You ignored him, tried not to look at him, just focusing on the ripples of water that splashed every time you flicked the glass. Blunt and dull pain against your fingernail that served as a distraction from whatever nonsense spewed from his mouth.

He wanted to know your name, where you were from, why someone like you was all alone at this bar; the usual routine for his type. You’ve handled guys like him before, freelance work was an unsteady business and unfortunately had brought you to places like this more than once. They always smiled, they always asked questions, they always acted so charmingly, but it all changed the second you told theme no.

He reached for your glass, taking it from your hand and setting it off to the side. He wanted your attention, and breaching personal space was his way of getting it.

That would be the last straw.

“Fuck off.”

He blinked at you, his mouth twisting into a smile that made your stomach drop. He sucked on his teeth, grinning until his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Someone's in a sour mood.”

He pouted, mocking you when you rolled your eyes turning away. A few people seated nearby had started to watch the two of you, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything else.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He got closer and you flinched away when he tried to touch your hair. “Don’t be so...stiff.”

He comments on how your mouth twitches, how it’s almost a smile now but you hold back. You didn’t think he was funny, even if that’s how he took it, none of it was for him. You just remember the number of times you’ve said that to Mando before. And as if fate was toying with you, the stiff sonofabitch waltzed right through the entrance of the cantina.

His armor gleamed with fresh droplets of rain, it dripped down his back onto his cape and laid in puddles on the floor, a little trail left through the cantina as he made his way over to you.

“Don’t think she’s looking for company.”

The sleaze sitting next to you turned to look at Mando, the cheesy grin dropping from his face at the sight of him. He held his hands up in defense muttering something about how he was not harming anything. Mando physically stood between the two of you, his chest level with your face as he knocked the guy from his seat.

He still didn’t know how to take a hint.

“Hey buddy,” He was shouting, or at least it felt like it like he wanted to start something in a packed bar full of long-time, trigger happy criminals. 

He still felt a need to defend himself.

“No need to get so worked up alright-”

Mando spun around, grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt. All eyes were suddenly on the three of you, small talk and dinner pushed to the side in favor of witnessing the beginnings of a brawl. You held your breath, watching Mando as he pulled the guy closer, hands clawing at Mando’s gloves to pull himself free. His words were low, angry even through the grit of his teeth, and all he needed to send someone running.

“Back off.”

With that, the guy was gone. Everyone went back to their own lives, business as usual for the underworld. The asshole disappeared into the crowd before you could even spot him again, blending in with the rest of the patrons, never to be seen again.

And you were left with a seething Mandalorian.

“Did you get the parts?”

You downed the rest of your water, blinking up at the brooding visor of your companion. He took a deep breath, slow and ragged from the way his shoulders shook as he composed himself.

“I thought I told you to stay put.” His tone was enough to turn your veins to ice, your eyes darting to anywhere but the face of his helmet.

“Didn't realize you were my guardian.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks again, the flesh tender and raw from how you’ve gnawed on it today. Defiance could sometimes be a tricky thing, but it felt like you were using against Mando more and more these days. Testing the waters of exactly how far he’d let you go before he put you back in your place.

“I might as well be.”

It stung, just a little bit and without another word, he turned to walk out of the cantina. This time you knew it was best to follow him.

-

“You should be thanking me.”

You threw your soaked pancho onto the floor, your undershirt just as wet with water still dripping off your body. He was making his way up to the cockpit, bumping into your shoulder as he moved past you. The entire walk back to his ship was spent in silence, but as soon as the ramp closed behind you, he wants to talk? Or better yet, he wants to comment on how grateful you should be for him being here.

Fuck him.

“Why, because you saved the day?” You couldn’t hold anything back for much longer and the more you spoke it, the better it felt to get the anger off your chest. “You're so full of yourself.”

“Did you even care to think about what you were doing?” He had turned back to you now, his boots stomping across grated floors as he came to stop in front of you. “Wandering off in a dangerous city, what the hell did you think was gonna happen?”

“I didn't really think about it-”

“Exactly,” He interrupted you, his voice strained as it filtered through his visor. “You don't pay attention.”

You guess he assumed he won the argument or at least ended it. But this had been a long time coming and you were a little tired of keeping it locked up any longer.

“Did it occur to you that I knew how to take care of myself long before I ever met you?”

It hurt from how hard you forced the words out, your throat feeling tight and constricting as you stared up at Mando, you hoped he could taste the venom behind your words.

“You're naive,” He sighed, shaking his head like he was tired of talking about this. “One day you're going to trust the wrong person and it will get you killed.”

Your face felt hot, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath. Your palms ached from how hard your fingers had been digging into them and your head was swimming with too many thoughts all at once. Mando was making his way up to the ladder, leaving you to wallow in your little corner of his ship without a second thought.

“I don't need you to protect me, Mando.”

You called out after him, your voice on the brim of screaming from how frustrated you felt.

“Looks like you do.”

It almost sounded like he was laughing, amused by how worked up you had gotten; or he was just patting himself on the back for being a decent person, for scaring off some creep in a bar.

“Stop it.”

You scolded him through the grit of your teeth, but he was unaffected, just standing at the base of the ladder and watching you cry in the belly of his ship.

“You're the biggest asshole I've ever met, you know that right?”

You picked up your clothes from the floor, still soaking wet and heavy in your arms. You moved them to one of the bins inside of the ship, just a few steps closer to Mando, and looked up at him.

He was in your space again, beskar armor brushing against your chilled skin as he stepped closer. You shot daggers into the t-shape of his visor, hoping he was feeling a bit of the sting you felt.

“And you just love it don't you, sweet girl?”

You shove him away, cursing at him as you turn to walk away.

-

You lost count of how long you spent elbow-deep in a box of spare parts.

Your fingers were tacky and smudged from the layers of oil and grease you had sifted through, putting parts into piles according to their purpose, and tanking the useless ones.

Every single one of them got cleaned, scrubbed to the point your fingers stung from how raw they were. You cleaned out the bin they had been laying in, washing out the dirt that laid at the bottom.

And you moved on to the next one and cleaned every inch of that bin.

There were probably better ways to deal with anger, but taking it out on the chore list you had been putting off for weeks seemed like a viable option. It was repetitive, monotonous, just something to occupy your attention until you had cooled off.

For the most part.

You made no effort to patch things up, no effort to speak to Mando who sat quietly in the cockpit, no effort to do anything about the air left behind from your argument. Mando wasn’t going to apologize and you’d spend the rest of your time on the Crest in silence before you said anything.

“Come here.”

All of this considered, you still couldn't think of why you went up to the cockpit. You were mainly on autopilot, it hadn't registered that you were making your way up the ladder at first. Not until you were faced off with a seated Mandalorian, his helmet cocking to the side as he spoke to you.

His hand was held out, guiding you towards him until you sat on his lap. Your knees squeezed into the narrow seat until your thighs sat on top of his.

“Still mad?”

His voice was softer, a little hoarse underneath the coder in his helmet. He fiddled with the edge of your tunic, his other hand tapping up and down your side in small patterns. Something felt so romantic about his touches if you could even consider it that. He was careful, calculated like he always was, keeping you within his grasp just enough to remind you he was still there.

It was so unlike him sometimes.

He huffed out a laugh, barely a chuckle really, and he tapped your chin when your face turned towards him.

“You think this is funny?” You quirked an eyebrow at him and tried to stop the corners of your mouth from turning upward.

“I do.” His hand trailed over the skin of your neck, just barely ghosting and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You're not being very….. convincing.”

He hummed absentmindedly, grabbing a hold of your chin and squeezing your cheeks.

“Don't touch me.”

Your last attempt to keep face, your head turning away from him and a pout set on your lips. He wasn’t getting off so easy, no amount of sweet-talking would make you forget how upset you had been.

He groans in the back of his throat, continuing his trek and ignoring your half-hearted warning. His hands grabbed your ass, sharp and squeezing your flesh in between his fingertips. You pushed away from him, grabbing his wrists and slamming them into the armrests of his seat.

“Don't. Touch. Me.”

He didn’t try to move again, his hands curled around the edges of the chair, his body relaxing into his seat as he huffed out a breath.

“What are you gonna do, sweet girl?”

It was a taunt, something sticky and sweet as it dripped from his lips. A challenge or a temptation; he was bating you, leaving the air thick with energy and silent save for your intakes of breath. You couldn’t see an inch of his face, still shielded by the pretty glint of his helmet, but you imagined he was grinning underneath the beskar.

“What would you do?”

You rolled your head to the side, batting your eyes with a sweet smile on your face. The tip of your forefinger drug along the cuirass strapped to his chest, your eyes followed your movements, watching as his chest seized up under your touch.

“I’d tie you up,” He admitted with a release of breath, panting a little as your hand splayed across his armor. “And make you beg me for it.”

You didn’t move at first, going over every possible thing those words could’ve meant. 

An invitation?

The quiet that fell over the two of you was deafening, the only background being the leftover pitter-patter of the storm that passed over you hours ago.

An order?

You couldn’t focus on anything but the rush of heat over your body, manifesting in your chest and face until it burned your skin.

A suggestion?

He turned his gaze just over your shoulder and you followed it, the source of his attention gleaming brightly in the low light of the cockpit. His cuffs sat to the side of his console, the light indicating they were working flashing in slow, steady patterns. They were heavy in your palms, you turned them over gingerly as if they needed your inspection, running your fingers along the edges and dents in the durasteel.

This may have not been your ideal way of ‘talking it out with Mando,’ but he did look good with his hands bound and magnetized to the armrests of his chair.

It wasn’t much security, you feel certain Mando could break out of them if he wanted to, but it was exciting, calling all the shots even if it was just for a moment.

And maybe a little bit of it went to your head.

His cock was hard and sat heavy in between his legs, almost painfully red to the point it begged for your touch. Just light touches, enough to tease, that was all he got. Never enough to relieve him in any way. You drug your nail up the underside of his cock and he nearly jumped up from the seat, his hips following your touch for as far as he could. 

He watched you the entire time, his visor pointed down to where you kneeled in front of him. He didn’t say anything; didn’t try to convince you to let him go, or even just to get him off. You were all he was interested in, and he watched every move you made like it was his lifeline, like you were the answer to everything he needed.

The sounds that fell from his lips were sinful, exciting, and pulling at the delicious ache in the pit of your belly. He was full of swears and filthy moans when you finally stopped teasing him and wrapped your lips around his cock.

It was slow, a chance for you to savor the taste of him on your tongue. He was covered in your spit, most of it dripping past your lips and pooling at the coarse hairs of his groin. You could almost imagine the feel of his hands in your hair, their usual place when he had you like this. He would guide you, twist your hair into the palm of his hand, and leave you hoarse from how hard he fucked your throat.

But this time was different, and you wouldn’t waste a minute of it.

He twitched in your hand as you dragged your tongue up his length, kissing the tip again while your hand worked the rest of him. The leather of his gloves groaned from how hard he clenched his fists, subconsciously pulling at the cuffs locked tight around his wrist. Your hand pushed against his tummy, keeping him grounded so his hips wouldn’t buck into your mouth.

He was starting to get impatient, he wanted more of you and you were feeling generous enough to give him that.

Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, your reflex gagging around him as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You remember to breathe through the nose, slow, shaky breaths until you pull up off of him, your spit pooling at the tip of his cock and dripping down the shaft. You grin up at him, watching the methodical rise and fall of his chest as he watched you.

It didn’t take long for him to become a complete mess under your touch.

You used your mouth on him, taking him down your throat over and over again until you needed a break. You could feel him start to throb harder, the muscles of his stomach taut under your fingertips as you bobbed up and down his cock.

He encourages you every step; grunting out how pretty you looked, how much he loved when you gagged on his cock, what a good job you did taking care of him. His begs were not lost to you, part of you wished you could record them, keep them sealed away for when you wanted to remember the one time Mando was at your mercy. He was begging you not to stop, don’t ever stop, he was so close when-

You pulled off of him, squeezing the base of his cock until the cum started to leak out of the tip of his cock.

He sounded almost pitiful, so disappointed, a frustrated growl was all that he could muster; a dying sentence that was masked by him whining again.

“Why-” He groaned out a curse when your mouth was on him, looking up at him while you licked the tip of his cock. “Why did you do that?”

You leave him, messy, unsatisfied, and meant to clean up his mess. The cuffs unlock with a tap of your finger to his vambrace, now discarded in the co-pilot's seat during your hasty exit.

You’re not sure where you're going but you’re moving fast.

It’s dark in the hull, the one bulb still working in the emergency lights isn't enough to cover anything, but you move through it anyway. Your fingers are just hovering over the control panel to the ramp, although you had no idea where you’d go past its threshold, it was your only plan.

A stupid one, but a plan.

You weren’t afraid, you had no real reason to run, but it was becoming suffocating in the Crest; you just needed some fresh air.

Some hot, humid, and sticky fresh air. Sounds like a great idea.  
His hands are on you before you even decide to open the ramp, pulling you until you’ve turned and faced him, pressed against his chest.

“You ever gonna learn not to run away from me?”

His voice is unfiltered, gravelly, and low as it hits your ears. He doesn’t wait for an answer.

It’s like fire erupted underneath your skin; a molten, white heat that’s bubbling closer and closer to the surface and stings with the press of his lips on your skin. He pulls layers away from your bodies, just enough that you're bare from the waist down and he’s left in the underclothes of his armor. You fumble to find the edge of your cot in the dark, just a few feet away and still covered in the blankets you had used this morning. You kneeled on the sheets, following his hands and letting him guide you to where he wanted.

“You have any idea how much I wanted to bend you over in that Cantina?” He growls from behind you, pushing your thighs apart and guiding you until your face is pushed into the bedding. “I was so pissed.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You gasp as his cock pushes into you, arching your back as he waits for only a second before he bottoms out inside of you.

“Because this,” He grinds his cock against your walls, barely canting his hips with enough friction to drive you mad. “This is all mine.”

He is not kind to you.

He fucks out every frustration he had about today, and it burns. It stings with newly formed bruises on your skin, it crushes your lips under his when he steals the breath from your lungs.

Your knees dig into the metal edges of your cot, the cushion underneath you like paper with the combination of your weights. He thrusts into you with the full force of his body, pushing you further and further up the cot until you are caught between him, and the wall above the head of your bed.

Mando keeps you pinned beneath him as you squirm, your hands tearing at the sheets of your cot with a wheeze that came from deep in your chest. He claws at your skin, looking to taste and sink his teeth into every inch of you; nips on your shoulders and wet kisses left on your neck. He holds you against him, pulling you up to his chest with the final thrust of his hips and squeezing your jaw as he pants in your ear. He keeps you close to him, turning your head so he could kiss you again, slower and less messy than before. Then you’re pushed to your knees again, his cock slipping out of you as he moves away.

His mouth was a surprise, you jumped at the initial contact of his lips on your legs, right at the juncture where your ass met your thighs. He mumbles something under his breath as he runs a finger over your pussy, still throbbing and drenching the tip of his finger. You hear the wet sound of it being sucked in between his lips and he moans at the taste, deep and rumbling from his chest. His hands spread you apart, the cool air hitting you just before you feel his tongue prob at your lips, trailing up just as his finger had done. He sucks on your clit and you almost hurt yourself from how hard you jerked away, your elbow landing against something solid that shot pins and needles up your arm. He grins against your lips, trailing his tongue from your clit, to your entrance, and even further until he comes up the curve of your ass. You feel his tongue swirl around the puckered muscle and nearly faint, moaning obscenities into your pillow when he asked you if you liked it.

You moan his name with every flick of his tongue over your clit, chanting it like prayers as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten harder and harder until it finally snapped. Tingling your nerves in waves of bliss you rode out as you ground back against his face. He licked you clean, the wet noises from his mouth filthy as he lapped at your cunt over and over. 

Your legs are shaking, hardly any feeling in the tips of your toes as he guides you to lay down, flat on your stomach with your face still buried into your pillow. He straddles you again, the rough material of his pants irritating you as he sits just below the curve of your ass and traces his fingers over your back.

Something was on his mind, you didn’t have to look at him to tell, after years of hiding underneath beskar he didn’t have to say a damn word to tell anyone what he was thinking.

Your hands found each other, the calloused palms of his hands running up your arm until they intertwined with yours, his grip like steel as he squeezed your fingers. You whine a little, soft and sweet to his ears as you turn your head to the side, blinking in the darkness and tracking the kisses he placed on your shoulder blade.

“You know how close I came to killing that guy?”

He sighed the words against your spine, like a confession he had been holding for too long, like he should somehow feel guilty about wanting to take a life in your name.

“Mando,” 

You wanted to forget about the whole thing, this trip, that city, everything. Having it buried and long forgotten wouldn’t change anything. Even if you wished on fallen stars for the rest of your days, you could never undo anything that happened. None of the memories would fade, the anger both of you felt wouldn’t just go away. You shattered like glass into a million pieces under the pressure, under Mando’s thumb and no amount of words would fix that.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Mando had laid himself completely against you, his weight was solid and pushed you into the mattress until you groaned in protest. He held himself up off of you a little bit, still hovering above you and grinning into your skin when you threw curses at him.

“No, Mando, no he-” you spit out, pulling your hand from Mando’s grip and pushing your hair out of your face. “He was just...a sleaze.”

They were carefully chosen words, but enough to satisfy him. He stopped asking questions and just laid there, you pinned beneath him with your eyes falling heavy in the quiet of the ship. Each blink like a chore until they rest, closed and your breath almost evening out.

“I would’ve done it,” He spoke out of nowhere, his breath fanning across your ear, warm and ticklish. “In a heartbeat, I would’ve killed him just for laying a hand on you.”

He was so quiet, endearing, just a whisper for only you to hear, it was probably the most gentle you had ever heard Mando speak. There were a few sloppy kisses left on your shoulder, his lips smacking as he left a trail of wet patches over your skin.

But just as quickly as you had melted at the feeling, only disturbed for a moment, he stopped and sat up, moving almost entirely off of your cot.

“Get some sleep.” He patted your calf in the darkness, giving it a loving squeeze as he swallowed any other thoughts that laid on his tongue. He pulled at one of the stray blankets until it laid on the back of your legs, your hands brushing against his as you took it from him.

“We’ll work on the engine in the morning.”


End file.
